Traditions and Champagne
by LSgrimm91
Summary: EPILOGUE AVAILABLE.  New Years Eve kiss oneshot.  This is what happens when I can't find a short, unsmutty, NYE fic: I write one.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Including U2's 'Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me', that was on my iTunes playlist whilst writing this.  
><strong>**Summary: Simple oneshot based on a nonexistent new years kiss.  
><strong>**A/ramble: This is what happens when I can't find a short, unsmutty, NYE fic. I write one. See what you people have done to me! I'd place this... I don't know. I want Janet in here, so pre her death. Brain is free range tonight. Not a songfic, but one song is mentioned. It was the one that was playing whilst I was typing. Oh yes, this is fluffy. The fluff bunny got me real bad! This is unbetaed, Cos it's early morning where my beta lives. Enjoy!**

*** fixed the 'champagne' typo... highly ashamed at the moment... gonna crawl under the couch now.**

~ Traditions and Champagne ~

How they managed to squeeze over two hundred personnel and their partners into one bar for a New Year Eve party, Jack would never know. But they managed. It was like a giant penguin huddle... with beer. He'd lost Daniel an hour ago when Janet had quite _literally_ kidnapped him. Teal'c was testing his 'mingling' skills and Carter was guarding the only vacant space in the room. All five square inches of air between her chest and his.

And the more alcohol Jack coaxed into her, the smaller that gap got.

Jack took another mouthful of Guinness; discretely eying Sam's pink, woollen jumper over the top of the bottle. There was something to be said about wearing uniforms all day: when it came time to get into civilian clothes, it was a pleasant surprise to see what Carter would come up with. It also meant when she rocked up to team nights in a flowery dress in summer, Jack had an excuse to stare at her.

Sam pressed her glass of wine to her chest – lucky glass – and said something that Jack couldn't hear over the music. He leant in close to her.

"What?" Jack had to yell, turning his ear to Sam.

"Let's go outside!" She shouted back, sending her hot breath over his ear. Jack stood up and looked over the crowd. Outside. That required a door... or a window. Now they had to find one. Jack spotted the main entrance over Sam's shoulder and grabbed her hand.

"Come on!" He dragged her through the dense mob of people. The traffic cleared closer to the doors, but Jack only tightened his grip on her hand; he was feeling confident and the beer _may_ have inhibited his judgement. Not that he was thinking _that_ hard about holding his Major's hand.

As Jack went to place his hand on the door, he failed to grab the handle, thanks to the half-full bottle of Guinness in his hand. Before he knew what was happening, Jack was wobbling out the door and he had one empty hand. Behind him, Jack heard a drunken snigger.

"We made it outside." Jack took a long swig of his beer, the neck teetering between his index and middle finger. Sam placed her empty glass in a garden pot by the entrance and walked towards him.

"Thank god." She tipped her head back and looked up at the starry sky, treating Jack to a nice view of her neck. Evil temptress. "Another year gone, Sir."

"Yep." Jack shrugged.

The music from the bar permeated the cool night air; the distinct drumbeat of U2's 'Hold me, Thrill me, Kiss me, Kill me' vibrating the large glass windows as Sam began rocking from side to side. It was interesting to see her so uninhibited. When he looked back at him, he forgot to pretend not to be ogling her. Oh, who cares? They were on stand down and two serves short of drunk. And it was New Years. Work was the last thing on his mind.

"What?" She asked with a bashful grin. Oh Sam, you can be cute when you want to be.

"Nothing." Jack shook his head and looked away innocently. She didn't believe him. Sam brushed it off and began to sway again. "Having fun there, Carter?"

"Yes Sir." She replied cheekily. She was teasing him and Jack loved it. He took another mouthful of liquid courage and placed his bottle on the ground. His balance was a little off but he managed to wander over to her.

"Mind if I join ya?" He asked, offering her his calloused hands. Sam stared at his hands for a second as if they where alien.

"Okay..." As soon as she lifted her hands, Jack grabbed them and began to turn her on their imaginary dance floor with all the grace and finesse of a footballer re-enacting 'Swan Lake'. So, not much grace or finesse. Sam got a laugh out of their clumsiness and Jack had to laugh at their sad – but hilarious – attempt at dancing together. The song faded away and Jack looked at his watch.

"Eleven fifty-nine, Carter." Jack advised his Major, who was leaning against his chest in a fit of giggles. She sighed happily and pulled down on his shoulders to stabilise herself.

"Really?" She giggled again and had to hold her hips to keep her standing straight.

_Okay folks! Are you ready? Ten!_

"Oh! The countdown!" Sam went wide-eyed (She was adorable!)

_Nine!_

_Eight!_

"New Year's resolution?" Jack asked, unconsciously pulling her against him.

_Seven!_

"Yes sir. But I can't tell you what it is." She grinned widely. "You?"

_Six!_

"Can't tell ya." Jack chuckled.

Five!

"Happy new year Sir." Sam smiled sweetly.

_Three!_

"You too." Jack gave her a smirk. The one he tried to keep at home. The one he knew Sam liked to see.

_Two!_

Now, Jack was two seconds away from a time honoured tradition: the New Years Eve kiss. Which, of course, he was strictly _not_ allowed to share with his lovely 2IC. However, since the regulations prevented relationships between officers in the same chain of command, one _could_ argue that a kiss would be harmless. All in the name of fun. Spirit of the holidays and what not.

_One!_

The argument stood well in their favour. So, in the second between eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine seconds, and midnight, Jack closed the gap between him and his Major. Sam didn't seem surprised and welcomed the kiss. She tasted strongly of Champagne and mint, and the tip of her nose was cold on his cheek. Jack knew this encounter would be brief. Any longer and they couldn't excuse the kiss as innocent. Somewhere, in that intelligent albeit slightly intoxicated brain of hers, Sam recognised this fact and allowed him to deepen the kiss.

And the kiss went on...

And on...

And on.

Finally, the nagging voice in Jack's head won out and he pulled away. In the distance, the gentle sound of 'auld lang syne' fluttered over the two drunken Air Force officers. They nodded to one another, acknowledging that their moment was over and it would stay between them.

"I'm stealing your beer Sir." Sam looked over her shoulder to the lonely glass bottle.

"I'll fight you for it." Jack held her close, looking at the object of her fascination. Sam turned back to him and tried to stare him down. He stared right back, quickly falling into those delightful blue eyes of hers.

"You won't win." Jack narrowed his gaze.

"Watch me."

In Jack's weakened state, thanks to alcohol and those pretty eyes of hers, Sam escaped his grip. Sam wobbled as she ran past his bottle, swiping it up and running down the road. She stopped and turned back to him, just waiting for him to chase her.

But he wasn't allowed to chase her. The powers that be say so... Screw 'em.

"Carter, gimme my beer!" He grinned, taking off down the road towards her.

~ SJ ~

**That's it, I'm done. Reviews would be lovely, please. I told you the fluff bunny got me. I blame microsoft word for that typo. **


	2. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I still cry about it. I don't own 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' either.  
><strong>**Summary: A short epilogue/sequel to 'traditions and 'champagne'.  
><strong>**A/note: proof that I'm a slave to my readers. This is for the readers, for the reviewers, and for those that asked for more. Can I say no to you guys? Apparently not! Yes they're still drunk. I reckon they would be funny drunks. If you get a giggle out of any part of this, my job is done. Enjoy!**

~ Epilogue ~

"No Sir!" Carter dazzled him with a drunken grin.

Forgetting the laws of momentum, Jack barrelled into his Major. Was it too much to expect her to dodge him? Their impact on the hard bitumen seemed to suggest so. In a frantic display of wayward arms and unstable legs, Jack slammed head-on into Sam, forcing all the air from her heaving chest with an audible 'oof!'

They fell to the road, the sound of his glass bottle bouncing on the ground left unheard to the Air Force officers. Jack landed on his 2IC, virtually rebounding off her firm body and onto the ground next to her. Sam coughed and groaned at his side, completely ignorant to his leg and arm lying across her torso.

"That was dumb," Jack grunted, trying to roll onto his back.

"I think so Sir," Sam agreed with a cough.

"Beer Bad..." Jack concluded, pressing his hand to developing bump on his head. Sam found sufficient energy and coordination to get back on her feet. Ah Carter, such a trooper, even in the face of intoxication.

"You stole that from 'Buffy'," She huffed as she leant on her knees, looking down at her prone Colonel.

"Who's Buffy?" A pair of clammy, yet highly dextrous hands grabbed the front of his shirt. "Whoa!" Jack yelped as Sam lifted him to his feet with surprising strength. Note to self: get Sam drunk prior to fist-fights.

"Let's go home Sir," Sam looked down the street, still grasping his shirt. Jack lamely pushed them away, because unless she intended to remove said shirt, he didn't want her to stand there holding onto him like that.

"Okay..." Jack nodded in _complete_ concurrence. "Whose?"

Sam just stared blankly at him. God, even when her brain was malfunctioning, she was cute!

"I don't know," her eyes widened as if she'd had an epiphany. I had yet to cross Jack's mind that they didn't need to go to the _same_ house. Oh well. They were shnockered.

"Well, whose house is closer?" Jack stumbled on his feet. Sam turned away and looked down the street. She did a complete 360 degree turn and looked at him, her head wobbling dizzily.

"Mine," she lifted a knowing finger, as if the little light bulb in her head had _finally_ switched on.

"Think we'll make it?" Jack wondered aloud.

"We'll make it Sir! We're SG-1! We always make it!" She said proudly, puffing out her chest. Don't do that, Sam. My brain will short-circuit.

"Then lead the way." Jack opened his hand to her, gesturing down the road. She walked past him quickly, her arms swinging dramatically. Jack followed her (like that was hard to do) along the dark street. Half way down the road, Sam hooked his elbow and swung him around.

"I live this way..." She said with determination, dragging him in direction they'd just come from.

They continued towards Sam's house, talking and laughing and bumping into one another the entire way. Sometimes, Jack had to hold onto Sam to stop one of them from face-planting into the sidewalk. Yeah right. That was what Jack kept telling himself.

Now, Jack knew for a _fact_ that it only took eight minutes to get from the pub to Carter's house. He knew this because both locations were on his daily running route. But since it took him and Sam almost an hour to get to her house, it either spoke very highly of his physique, or very poorly of their navigation skills. Sadly, Jack suspected the latter.

Jack leant against Sam's white front door as she tried –and failed – to direct her house key into the lock.

"You hold the key, I'll hold the door." Jack grasped the handle. It seemed to work, because the next thing Jack knew, he was lying across the threshold. Sam staggered to the left, looking down at him.

"Hey, I've got to invite you in first." Sam frowned and bit her lip.

"Okay Carter. Come on in." Jack beckoned her into the house with a floppy hand.

"That's better." Sam nodded, before she stepped over Jack and grabbed his arm to pull his body all the way through the door. She was a strong little lady! Jack lay half in the living room, half in the foyer.

"Don't go anywhere." Sam pointed a finger at him... well, at a spot about a metre to his right, but he got the message. Sam turned around and left him on the carpeted floor. As if he would go anywhere. Now really, Sam!

Jack was ready to fall asleep when a pillow landed on his face. Gasping in surprise, Jack was overpowered by the smell of Sam's hair. This must have been her pillow currently try to smother him. And oh what a death it would have been. Jack pulled the fluffy lavender pillow off of his face and was greeted with the unusual sight of his Major waddling towards him with thick white blanket over her head.

"Move over." She ordered him. Jack looked to his left, then to his right. Did she need more than four feet of carpet? Nevertheless, he scooted towards the couch and tucked the pillow under his head. It seemed that Carter wanted to sleep with him (hallelujah!) on the floor of her living room. Eh, alcohol excused many things. And many regrets. As long as they slept through the night, they would have nothing to regret.

Sam practically fell on top of him, covering them both with her blanket. Jack stretched out an arm and pointed to his shoulder with the other hand.

"Pillow here," He yawned.

"Why thank you Sir." Sam chirped sleepily, flopping her head onto his bicep. Within two minutes, they were dead to the world. Neither moved a muscle during the rest of the morning and where woken by the bright sunlight streaming through Sam's living room window and the burn of cold toes.

Jack was the first to wake, the beginnings of a headache making his return to reality all the more uncomfortable. Not to mention his Major's ice cold nose trying to warm itself behind his ear. And her snoring. Let's not forget Sam's snoring.

Jack toyed with the idea of waking her, but would rather avoid her grumpiness. Besides, why ruin such a wonderful beginning to the New Year?

~ SJ ~

**There, now it's **_**really **_**finished. Reviews? Oh yes. Please**.


End file.
